


Etwas böse auf diese Weise kommt

by Splotcher



Series: Scarred Hearts [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Assasination, Companionable Snark, F/M, Gen, Intrigue, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splotcher/pseuds/Splotcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple months after the invasion by Siegfried into Portland, and Nick Burkhardt and Sean Renard are still avoiding each other. The city has sighed in relief and returned to a peaceful state after the incursion.  Peace is fleeting, however, and Portland has drawn the eye of new and terrifying adversaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something wicked this way comes

**Author's Note:**

> As with most fanfic works, Grimm is not mine, though I enjoy to read fanfics. If you have just gotten to this fic, please read the first one, as there is a myriad of OC's that wander in and out of the story. I do my best to keep them believable so that they do not take over the story, but like most of my writings, I am always interested in feedback. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> \--SPlotchy

^*^**^*^*^**^*^*^*^*

He wakes up for apparently no reason. It is very inconvenient, because he’s been working late nights trying to fix the damage the last incursion did while trying to bring himself up to par with the latest legal statues and policies. Renard has steadfastly refused to take on a new lawyer, instead throwing himself headlong into work. Pretending he was fine, just like everyone else was. Everyone was hurrying to bring back normalcy, to bring back security, in order to take a step back and convince themselves that everything was alright now.

He had been doing the same thing, and he had finally come home after another long day. Sleep had claimed him almost immediately, and when he has slept lately, hardly anything can rouse him. Which makes tonight a bit odd.

He blinks the night from his eyes and woges slightly, eyes flickering to take in the darkened room. 

There is no one there. 

He blinks, releasing the woge. He listens, but nothing seems out of place. He’s willing to consider it a figment of his imagination, but his keen nose (though not as keen as blutbaden, assuredly) picks up an odd trace of ozone. 

The forecast was clear tonight. 

He carefully pulls the covers off his bed, slips his hand under the pillow. He finds his phone still there, where it tends to fall most nights. He carefully slipped it into his hip pocket as he struggled up. As an afterthought, he pulls on a robe and checks the pockets. He started walking to the kitchen, keeping his senses open to intruders.

After he got to the kitchen without being jumped, he began to wonder if he was just being paranoid. After all, they had rousted Siegfried a few months before, it took time to get back to normalcy. Except…

He stopped in front of the fridge. He hesitated only for a moment before pulling out the phone and shooting off a text to an emergency contact in his phone. 

It was probably the only thing that saved him, as the screen went dark after the text and the reflective surface showed the image of something shiny and sharp headed straight towards him. He threw himself sideways.

The blade missed him, and pierced the fridge. 

“Shit!” He cursed and kept moving, not bothering to look behind him. He was already slow with the bad leg, and any hesitation was sure to be suicide. 

He heard a snarl behind him as something was wrenched out of his fridge. 

He definitely needed to get out. He couldn’t make it to the door, he needed to get to the safe room. 

Somehow making it to the hall door, he scrambled into it before slamming it closed and jamming the code into the keypad. The code pad turned green and he sighed a brief sigh of relief. 

He turned, bringing up the phone to make an emergency call.

The blade slammed into it and the brave phone hindered its passage into his body by deflecting it into his shoulder instead of his heart. It pins him against the door, not quite going through the shoulder. 

Even going through the phone, it was still very painful to be stabbed. He gasped at the pain.

He stops himself from crying out. It won’t help. Instead, he stares at the man who has somehow managed to magically appear in a locked safe room.

It’s dark. He can tell the man is wesen, but that’s all. The only defining characteristic is the bright purple eyes, glowing slightly in the dark. The eyes are piercing, and he feels a little frozen. He is however, extremely aware of the blood pouring down his arm.

“Don’t you think you could have knocked?” He somehow managed. The head that held those eyes cocked to the side. “I probably would have made you coffee. Murder is very messy.”

A soft hiss filled the room. His heart rate picked up. He was scared. He was fucking terrified. And he had a blade stuck in his shoulder. That was incredibly inconvenient. 

“I feel like we could have talked about this before we got to this point. It is incredibly uncivilized to kill people in their own home. I was sleeping and everything.” At this point he is just randomly spouting everything he can think of, trying to buy time.

His attacker doesn’t make any sound. 

“You should know that I bleed incredibly easily. As you can see. And I will fold like a house of cards, so if you’re looking for a challenge you won’t have it.”

Another angry hiss. His attacker stepped forward. There isn’t enough light to see the features, and it probably wouldn’t have helped anyway. The eyes are still keeping him frozen, and he’s still panicking. His hands are down by his sides.

The hiss is getting a bit louder now, as his attacker moves every closer. There are a myriad of scenarios flying through his mind, and all of them end with him being an obituary. 

But there is dying, and then there is dying without fighting. For all of his comments on his own weaknesses, he’s not about to die without at least some parting shot. 

He waits for his attacker to be ever closer, when he pulls out the small can of mace from his robe and sprays it into the only feature of his attacker he can readily recognize.

The soft hiss now turned to a pained cry and the blade is wrenched from his shoulder. He falls in a heap to the floor and immediately claps a hand to his shoulder, wet to the touch. His attacker is still making that pained cry stumbling back into the back of the room. Without those eyes to show where he was, it is now incredibly difficult to tell where his attacker is. Even with his heightened senses. 

The purple eyes enter his vision again, now looking painful and extremely angry.

He was going to die. He was going to die and this was going to be awful.

A loud slamming on the safe room door caused his heart to leap into his throat and his attacker to hesitate.

“Mr. Thorne! You in there?! We got help on the way, open the door or say something, man!”

He’s heart is still in his throat, so nothing really comes out. His current room companion is still blinking rapidly, but is hesitating to finish the job.

“I’m overriding the door!”

A snarl in the darkened room and suddenly the eyes blink out of sight. A bare second later, light floods the room, blinding him.

“Shit!” A pair of hands pull him up to a sitting position. He has to grit his teeth at the rough handling. “You okay, Boss Fox?”

“Look out for-“ He stared into the safe room. There was no one there. No trace of anyone except a phone with a hole in it and the leak he’s sprung in his shoulder.

“For what?”

“There was someone in here with me.”

“…you sure?”

“…No, I must have stabbed myself in the shoulder.”

“…Re-“

“No, not really! There was someone in here with me.”

“Why did you let him into the safe room?”

“I didn’t-…..he came in after the door was closed.” His voice was taking on a certain measure of patience that his own underlings recognized as a danger sign. Nico’s underling (Ricardo? Richie?) seemed to be confused. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Peachy. What the hell took you so long? Don’t answer that. Call Nico for me. Please.”

“Uh yeah. Sure. Where’s your phone? I left mine in the car.”

He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*

 

The knock on the door is loud and insistent, so he throws on a shirt over his pajama pants and rushes down the stairs of this incredibly empty house. Juliet hasn’t come back from visiting her aunt. She’s not ever coming back, if the lack of her things is any indicator. 

He looks out the window and the figure on the other side of the door gives him a wave. He stares at it for a moment before opening the door to reveal Nico. 

Renard’s man of…something. He didn’t get a job description and based on what he did to those wesen invading the territory a few months back, he isn’t sure he wants one, because the next step would be attempted jail time.

“I’m sorry to wake you up so late at night. I urgently need to speak to you.”

“About what, exactly?” They aren’t friends. He sure he and Renard aren’t friends, his underlings don’t come into it. 

“Someone tried to kill someone close to Renard tonight.”

“I have been here all night.” He said defensively.

“…I never said you weren’t. However, there is a possibility that whoever came after this man close to Renard will attempt it again. It was wesen, as far as we can tell, and if it does manage to get hold of this person, we could be seeing severe difficulties in the development of this territory.” The man seemed almost to fade into darkness with his charcoal gray suit.

“…okay, what does this have to do with me? Don’t you have people that could protect this person?”

“Funny you should say that. As for the first question, you live in this territory. As such, you have a vested interest in its continued prosperity. As for the second, that’s a bit more complicated. I do have people, but the ones I would normally use on this task are currently keeping an eye on Prince Renard and other important persons of the city. The ones I currently have, they don’t have the fortitude needed to protect this person. I do know that even hostile wesen think twice about attacking a Grimm though, and that’s what I am currently relying on.”

“You seem to think I’ve already accepted.” Nick crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the luison.

“I’m not so uncouth. But I do know that when you see what I’m offering for this, you’ll consider.” The luison tilted his head towards him.

“What exactly are you offering?”

“A favor. From one of Renard’s right hand men. That would bring you up to a favor from both men, if I understand correctly.” 

“What? I don’t have a favor from Thorne.” He said quizzically.

“You did make sure his people got from the building safely a few months ago.”

“That…he was serious about that?” From what he remembered, he’d been efficiently herded out of the building by interns.

“Of course. As am I. What do you say?”

He studied the luison for a moment. He was inclined to slam the door in the wolf’s face and go back to bed, but if they were reaching outside of their ranks for help, it must be serious. And he had a much better understanding of politics in the area now.

“I can try to help. Who is it?”

The luison stepped aside so he could see the car on the street. Inside was an incredibly irritated looking Thorne.

“…Someone tried to kill Thorne?”

“Almost managed it. We’re looking into it. We just need you to glare at unfamiliar wesen until we either catch them or someone tries and succeeds.”

“…One of my choices is to watch him until somebody kills him.”

“Or until someone catches our mystery assassin, yes. Don’t worry, I have my best men on it.” Nico clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help. Incidentally, the fortitude I talked about earlier? He made some of my men cry. God help you.”

Nico was trotting back down the sidewalk and opening the trunk before Nick could get a word out. He was pulling out an overnight bag when Nick found his voice. 

“What do you mean ‘God help me?’ He cannot be that bad.”

When the luison starts laughing he realizes he may have made a mistake.

^*^*^**^^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*


	2. There will be trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! fast update. Anywho, the next chapter will take longer, I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you for your continued support!
> 
> \--Splotchy

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“Nico’s a bastard.”

“I have been telling people that for years. No one has met him long enough to believe me.”

Its morning and neither of them has slept. Nick has flinched awake with every restless movement of the fox in his house. Thorne cannot sleep due to the pain in his shoulder that he staunchly refuses to take pain medication for.

Nick is trying to play good host and has made coffee. Thorne obviously doesn’t like it but is making the attempt to drink it anyway. 

“So what exactly came after you?” He asks after a moment. The fuchsbau had been in no mood to talk last night.

“Not sure. It hissed, if that helps. It had purple eyes.” Thorne said after a sip.

“A hissing purple eyed monster.”

“That can walk through walls.”

“…That apparently can walk through walls.” Nick sighs.

“I am not crazy.” The statement manages to come out defensive even though his voice is entirely level.

“I didn’t say you were. It’s just that it would be my luck that a wesen that can walk through walls is hanging out in Portland. I’ve had that kind of luck…ever since I became a Grimm, actually.”

Thorne seemed to relax at that. “Nico’s men think I’m crazy. They think it slipped in with me or was in the room and left before I closed it or something highly improbable and ridiculous.”

“…Because a phantom killer that walks through walls is entirely in the realm of reason.”

“I will admit it seems farfetched.” Thorne said a bit ruefully.

“Just a bit. But probably not the weirdest thing I’ve seen.”

Nick takes a moment to take in the fuchsbau. The Salazar Thorne he usually sees is well-dressed, sharp, and generally acidic. The Thorne he sees before him obviously hasn’t slept…not in a while, at least. His clothes are rumpled and his hair is ruffled. He looks like he’s been on a two-day bender. The well-spoken words are there, but they seem a bit listless and subdued. 

“How long has it been since you had a good night’s sleep?” He asked finally. The fox shrugged noncommittally. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Thorne shrug.

“It’s been busy all around. Money to make, empires to fund.” His tone is dry.

“The neighborhood looks good.” He doesn’t have to clarify, they both know which one. Bud had been so proud to be chosen to help the reconstruction.

“Spackle, I’d imagine. Or…whatever they do to buildings.” Thorne rubs the heel of a hand under his glasses, bags under his eyes evident.

“…Do you actually know what goes into fixing houses?” He is actually very interested to know the answer. 

“…Wood? Do I look like someone that engages in renovation?” The fox fixed him with a look. “I pay other people to build houses.”

“….Forget I said anything. Speaking of houses, I want to go to yours.”

Thorne looks distinctly uneasy. “That…I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not? You can’t tell me you’re scared…You faced down an invasion of your office. You didn’t even flinch.” He raises an eyebrow at the fox. The man just looks at his coffee.

“That was the office. I had everything planned for things like that.” Thorne hesitantly looks up. “This was at my home. I was not prepared. I did not plan for that.”

Nick feels a pang of sympathy. He knew what Thorne was experiencing. His home had been invaded more than once, but at least he could fight his way out. He was a man of action. Thorne was a man of plans and preparation. 

“This guy, whoever he is, is probably gone. And you’ll have me.” He flashes him a not nice grin. “I’m apparently one of the scariest things there is. Plus, I called Monroe this morning, he’s in to searching your house. ”

Thorne lifts a side of his mouth in a slight smile, then sighs. “Must we?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. I’ll get dressed.”

*^^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^

 

“You failed.” The voice is high pitched, lilting. He nods in reply, not willing to look up at the other man. He can’t stand to look at him.

“Why is the Fuchsbau not dead?”

“Too many.” He whispers, a soft touch of tongue against fangs.

“Too many? There was just one fox. If I am to claim my place at Renard’s side, the fox must go. You know the penalty of failure.”

“…Yes.” He knows very well. He has paid it ever since he was sent from his homeland.

A hand slips into his vision and grips his chin, yanking up so that he might look into the other man’s eyes. This touch sends a wave of traitorous relief through him, just as he fights the urge to wretch in revulsion.

There is a sickening pall of light pink, like diluted blood. 

“You will deal with the fox. Don’t disappoint me. You will not like it.” The last two words are sang at him and he fights the urge to strike out. It will only end in pain.

The lecherous hand slides from his chin to his cheek in a parody of a caress. The revulsion grows, and he wants to be anywhere, kill anything, rather than spend another second here. 

“Go on now. Do me proud.”

He almost runs.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Thorne’s house is not what he expects. He expects an expensive apartment like Renard’s, or some high rise apartment in the business district. Thorne lives in a small two-story, smaller than his own home. There’s an actual yard gnome in his yard. The gnome is holding a chicken.

He doesn’t really know what to think, so he doesn’t say anything, instead just walks up the steps to the house. Thorne is following closely, shooting glances at the houses around, and somehow managing to not look as nervous as Nick knew he felt. Monroe troops in behind, dutifully keeping his senses open.

He unlocks the door for Nick, and is pulled behind the Grimm’s body as Nick cautiously opens the door. The hall inside is empty.

“Stick close.” He says, pulling out his weapon. He walks down the hallway, signals Monroe to stay with Thorne as he checks the house. He checks room after room, a safe room, kitchen, study, bedroom, bath, guest bedroom…all clear. 

He holsters the gun and returns to the kitchen where Monroe is standing guard next to Thorne, and he shakes his head. “Nobody here right now. Alright, so take me through what happened.”

Monroe begins to sniff around the house as Thorne rubs his face and began to recount the night’s events.

“I woke up in my bedroom. I didn’t know why. I checked the room, didn’t see or hear anything.”

“Why didn’t you go back to sleep?” Nick asked.

“I smelled ozone. Like what happens when lightning strikes. I knew there were no storms forecast for last night. I got up, I got my phone and I put on my robe. Went down to the kitchen.”

“In here? Where did you stand?”

“In front of the fridge. Where the unfortunate hole is letting out all the cold air.” 

“Your meat went bad.” Monroe supplies helpfully from the hall.

“…Of course it did.” Thorne mutters.

“What happened then?” Nick asks, tracing a finger around the edge of the hole. Whatever pierced the fridge came through with force, and it had been sharp.

“I ran for the safe room, and made it. I closed the door and locked it with my code. Then I turned around and got stabbed.”

“Same weapon?” Nick suspected it might be.

“I really wasn’t paying attention. I got hung up on the fact that someone had stabbed me.” 

Nico nodded. That was often the way with victims of violent attacks, some of the details got blocked in favor of focusing on what the biggest threat was deemed at the time. “What else can you tell me?”

“It was purple eyes, they glowed, it hissed at me a couple of times, then one of Nico’s men showed up and scared it off.”

“How?” Nick looked up.

“How what?” Thorne looked puzzled.

“How did he scare it off, and how did he know to come in?”

“Oh. I texted an emergency number when I thought there may be someone in the house. And he was causing a racket on the door and overriding the door locks.” Thorne rubbed the bandage on his shoulder. “When the door was open, the wesen was gone.”

Nick nodded, mulling over the information. “And he didn’t see somebody else? No possibility there were two people in the house, one that snuck into a safe room and the other attacking you in the kitchen?”

“It’s possible, but it would be hard for one person to sneak around in here, much less two. He said he didn’t see anything in the house.”

“Yeah, but we shouldn’t rule it out. If he can walk through walls, pretty much anything is in the realm of possibility. Hey, just as an aside, was he one the ones you made cry last night?”

“…I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Nico said you made some of his men cry.”

“That’s a gross exaggeration.” Thorne said stubbornly.

“…right. Monroe, let’s check out the safe room.”

^*^*^**^^*^**^*^*^^*^**^*^*^*^*^^**^*^^**^^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

“Any ideas on what came in?” He asks, frowning. 

Nico shakes his head. “If it weren’t for the fact that he had been wounded and the hole in the fridge, I’d say he’d been dreaming. That, and the fact that Thorne doesn’t call for help unless he needs it. Something was in there.”

“Is Thorne alright?”

“Enough that when I got there he was bawling out one of my younger recruits. I actually feel bad, I put the kid on that detail because no one tries to attack an accountant, get his feet wet with a little bit of late night patrols. I didn’t expect that he’d actually have to deal with this situation. I’m changing Sal’s security rotation, pulling Zero and Clara to take care of him. He likes those two better. I’m sending Richmond somewhere else, see if he can recover.”

“Who is watching Thorne now?” Sean asks, poring over the details, sparse as they were, of the attack.

“I didn’t have any spare old hands, and the new recruits got spooked. I had to reach outside my ranks. Handed him over to the Grimm for safekeeping.”

“You pulled Burkhardt into this?” His head shot up.

“I can either pull him in now or let him wander in later on his own. You know he can cause more damage if he just blunders in, and this way I can keep an eye on both until I track down the person that did this. There’s no telling what we have in the works, and until I get my best men back from their assignments, the most threatening thing in this city to the uninitiated is the Grimm we have running loose on the streets.” Nico pointed out.

“So you’re relying on the fact that Grimms are terrifying to normal wesen to get the attacker to back off?” Sean asked.

“Pretty much.”

“And what happens if we are dealing with something that has no fear of Grimms?” Sean pressed. “You may have exposed Detective Burkhardt to a risk he’s not ready to handle.”

“At this point, it may be a risk none of us can handle. We need information, we need time.” Nico said cooly.

“You should have brought him here.” He snapped back, cold. “I could have protected him.”

“And if you are collateral damage? I’m sorry, we can’t let that happen. Thorne and I agreed that until this is resolved he’s not staying with you. The Grimm is the best choice. Besides, he is capable. He’s taken down his fair share of wesen. He may not be a true ally to us, but he has agreed to help. We should avail ourselves of that.” Nico stood his ground.

Sean stood, planting his hands on the desk. “You should have asked me before involving him.”

“It is better to ask forgiveness than permission, Your Majesty.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^^**^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^**^*^


	3. Determination and Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading the first two chapters. I am always happy to see that people are reading my work. I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Just so you all know, I will be shifting places in a short while, which may mean a temporary lull in updates as I resettle, but I will do my best to keep writing.
> 
> Thank you all for comments, kudos, and views!
> 
> \--Splotchy

*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^^**^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^**^*^  
“Hey, look at this.”

“I don’t see anything.” He frowns at the wall.

“That’s because you aren’t using your Grimm senses, here let me show you-oops!” A chunk of the wall crumbled with the brush of the Blutbad’s fingers.

Nick stared for a moment, then reaches up to brush the wall. More and more pieces of the concrete flew apart in a flurry, disintegrating like rotted plaster.

“What the hell?” Nick muttered as he pushed at the wall. It gave way instantly, leading to a space in the wall. There were a few wires there, and as he touched them they broke apart with the same ease. 

“Well that’s weird.” Monroe said, staring.

“Can you smell anything?” He asked, brushing his hand on his pants.

Monroe stuck his nose close to the whole and took a cursory sniff. “Smells…whoa…”

“Whoa? Whoa what?”

“Dude, it smells snakey in here. Do you have problems with snakes?” Monroe asks over his shoulder.

“Sometimes a garter gets under the house. Nothing serious.” Thorne said, shifting his weight slightly. 

“This is bigger than a garter. “

“Snake wesen?”

“I don’t recognize the scent, it’s one I haven’t been around before.”

“Right, let’s get back out to the hall.” Nick left his inspection of the wall. He ushered Thorne back out of the room, following him back to the kitchen. Monroe came out behind, sniffing the whole way.

A snake wesen. Glowing eyes. What could that be?

“Nick…” Monroe’s voice was low, a warning.

He immediately snapped to attention, looking around with all his senses.

“What is it?”

“Smells like snake.”

“…Sure you aren’t smelling the saferoom?”

Monroe gave him a look and he unholstered his weapon.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
Damn.

Damn!

He cursed fluently in a couple of tongues as he observed the two men with his prey. A blutbaden he could deal with, a Grimm as well. Together, it could prove difficult. And his prey was right between the two.

Best to attack quickly.

He takes a deep breath, steps through the wall and begins his stalk to the other side of the room, out of sight of the three. If he was quick, if he was careful, he could kill the fox without the Grimm being wiser, without the Blutbaden sensing him. 

The blutbad stiffened, called to the Grimm.

Damn the nose of the dog wesen. He would not come out of this clean. Best to do it now, while he still had an element of surprise.

He shifts, and it takes all of his concentration to move from the wall directly behind the fox.

As such, he is surprised to see the Grimm looking straight at him. His senses were better than he thought.

He fixed the Grimm with a look, just barely stopping him from bringing up the gun. His attention full on the Grimm, he did not see the Blutbad barrel forward. It slammed into him, causing him intense pain as his…leash… began to spark. He hissed angrily and moved back. The fox was now behind the blutbad, ducking behind a much larger mass. There was no way to get to him right now. And the Grimm…

He ducked instinctively and the shot went over his head. He heard the Grimm say something, but he ignored it for escape. He barely mustered up enough concentration not to cause himself harm as he slipped through the walls to the outside, fleeing swiftly.

There was a crash behind him as the Grimm came through the wall he had just exited, but he was fast and determined. He left the Grimm behind easily.

There would be another time. He would not fail.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
She stares at the bear as if it might give her answers. 

It gives her some answers, but not any that’s pertinent to her cases. It answers such questions as; Is Renard comfortable in his office? (obviously yes. There is a god damn teddy bear in a police uniform on his desk.) Did he put it there himself? (…No. She doubts he would have superglued it to the desk.) Did it have a name? (Some dumbass had stitched ‘Cuddles Renard into a badge and clipped it to the bear’s chest.)

The answer to Why in all of these questions refused to be made available. 

The door opened and Sergeant Wu stepped in, looked around for a second, then turned his attention back to her.

“Captain Renard! Embracing our feminine side today?”

“Can it, Wu. Where is he?”

“Couldn’t say.” Wu shrugged.

“Couldn’t say as in he’s ordered you not to or couldn’t say as in you’re too loyal to?”

“Couldn’t say because he snuck out while I wasn’t here.”

“…oh.” She deflated a bit. Damn the man for wandering off when she actually wanted to speak with him.

“So what’s up?” Wu sits on the edge of the desk.

“I had a few things I wanted to discuss with Renard. He’s obviously not here.”

“That’s a very cruel thing to say around Cuddles. He’s a Renard too.” Wu gestured to the bear on the desk.

“God help me.” Donovan said, just loud enough for Wu to hear but mostly to herself. “How does he get any work done?”

“”We’ve got a couple pools on that. Best one so far is that he’s actually part robot.” 

“You’ve seen him woge.”

“That’s right. And I am not removing that from the realm of possibility.” Wu said smugly.

She sighed. “Tell him I came by.”

“Will do, Captain.” He stepped away from the desk, threw jaunty salutes at both her and the bear, and strode out of the Captain’s office, whistling. 

She shook her head and followed him out.

*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^^**^

They spend the next few minutes freaking out. Some, like Thorne and Burkhardt, do it quietly. Monroe does not do quiet freak outs.

“Did you see him?! He walked through a wall. A wall, Nick!”

“I told you it was possible he did that!”

“Yeah, but I thought it was like, slight of hand. He actually walked through a wall. And did you see those eyes? They were purple like lamps and he hissed. He freaking hissed man, what the hell?!” The blutbad is waving his arms erratically, and Thorne has to duck a few times.

“Ok, calm down. He’s already gone, and with as little wall as what’s left, he’s unlikely to be able to hide in it. Thorne, you okay?” Nick says soothingly.

“…I’m moving. The appeal of this neighborhood has really gone downhill.” The fox is looking ill enough to lose his breakfast, but seems to be trying to rally.

“Probably a good idea. You have a snake problem.” Monroe said, mouth still moving faster than his brain. He immediately looked repentant at the stricken look on Thorne’s face. 

“I should probably call Nico. May I have a phone?”

“There a phone by your head.” Nick notes as he starts fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Both you and he went through the wall that houses my phone line. Considering what it did to the wires in the safe room, my landline is unlikely to be working. My other phone has a hole in it.” Thorne takes the phone, steps a foot away from them in a semblance of privacy and starts punching in numbers.

He accepts that explanation while he returns to Monroe, still freaking out. He raises his hands, placating. “At least you hurt it. I mean, it was thinking twice after messing with you.”

 

“Except…except it shouldn’t. I’ve tangled with a few wesen, Nick, as you well know, but this guy shoulda come back and just walloped me one. But I just touched him and something weird started happening.”

“The sparks?”

“Yeah, there was some sort of gem thingy mabob on his jacket. It started sparking as soon as I touched him. That’s when he backed off.”

Nick mulled that over as he kept an eye on Thorne while the fox talked stonily into his phone. The call was apparently finished soon after, and Thorne returned his phone.

“Thank you. Nico is upset.”

“I would be too, if weird snake wesen were busting up my friend’s house.” Nick muttered, pocketing the phone.

“…Actually, we aren’t really friends. And that was more of a heads up, he’s also irritated at you.”

“Wait, us? Why?” Monroe protested.

“Apparently he thought we were going to stay at Detective Burkhardt’s house, not mine. I wouldn’t worry too much about it, he’ll complain for a while, then chalk it up to my refusal to listen to him.” Thorne waved it off.

“Does that happen often?” Nick says, ignoring the look on Monroe’s face. Every time Nico gets mentioned, the blutbad gets a slightly hunted look, and has yet to provide an answer as to why. He is not going to believe that Monroe was threatened to be blackmailed to hide a horsehead in his own bed as a warning. 

“More often than not. He’s a bit resigned to it, which I think is sensible. I’m resigned to him sticking twenty-four hour guards around my home and office. I’m sure he believes that is sensible. Between the two of us, the relationship seems to work on mutual resignation.”

“Just like any good relationship.” Nick quips. Then he’s struck with a bit of melancholy at thought of his own relationship with Juliette. “Let’s just head out. We need to get to a safe place and I need to do some research.”

^**^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^


	4. Will you trust me to help you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> I have returned, after settling into my new home and having computer issues. I hope you all have been well, and thank you for your wonderful reviews, comments, bookmarks, etc!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter,
> 
> \--Splotchy

^**^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

“You also have a lunch appointment, and the head of the Musai for Maushwertz wishes to discuss one of the safe houses that was demolished in the incursion, she’d like to remodel it as a halfway house.”

“Is this the same Musai I almost had to throw out of the city last year because she tried to feed on the son of the mayor?”

“She claims to have changed. She based that change on the reluctance to feed on the mayor’s son.”

“Really? I was told it was because she couldn’t find any artistic inclination in him. Tell her no. I already have plans for that house.” He rubs his temple. It was no longer going to be used as a safe house, but a halfway house wasn’t a bad idea. But he wasn’t going to let a Musai with a long and checkered history of deceit run it.

His aide, though if anyone asked he’d stubbornly tell them he didn’t need one, was not the most efficient aide he’d ever had. But she made a very good try at it, and despite his reluctance to keep her, he had to admit she had done wonders for his schedule (the wesen side of it, at least). He was a bit curious to where Nico had found her, and was tempted to see if she had a permit for the concealed weapon she didn’t think he knew about, tucked away in her jacket. Apparently when Nico saddled him with this particular aide, he believed she should come fully armed to the teeth.

Angelica was pretty, in a severe sort of way. Brunette and shapely. And entirely not his type. He also wondered if that was Nico’s doing. 

She set down the folder in front of him detailing everything known about a man named Trigoli.

It was startlingly very little.

“I’m going to lunch with him? Why?” He doesn’t remember this meeting at all.

“He holds several very lucrative business contracts. You agreed to see him last week. He’s interested in doing business in the area, specifically with you. He’s Gluhenvolk, or at least claims to be, and he’s passed Nico’s scent test. We don’t consider him a risk as of yet.”

“And what would you have done if he had been considered a risk?” He can’t keep the undercurrent of amusement out of his voice. Ever since this unpleasant business with his cousin, wesen seemed to be coming out of the woodwork to keep an eye on him. He went into a store a few days ago for milk, and a tiny wizened klaustreich decided to walk him home safely. He was easily two feet taller than she was. She seemed not to mind, and had regaled him with a story of her grandchildren (seven) and how two of them were going to be police officers.

As ridiculous as it was, he was actually absurdly (though secretly) pleased she had felt comfortable enough with him to talk about them.

“I’m sure I am not privy to Nico’s methods. I’m sure he would have picked an appropriate response.” His aide sniffed. She was a klaustriech as well, and he wondered at a possible family resemblance.

He also knew ‘appropriate response’ might actually mean being dragged out to wherever Nico decided was an ‘appropriate distance’ and being dealt with more permanently. Nico also rarely did that without permission first, but there were always exceptions. Nico was very pragmatic about problems. 

“Very well. What else is going on?”

“SST International is wanting to discuss with you another possible agreement regarding ‘maritime trade’. They say they want to deal with us, but Benedict must go. They will not deal while he is still in the city.”

“They continue to have an overinflated ego.” And Benedict continued to at least behave. If it weren’t for Nico’s constant rants about him or the worrying influence he might have over Sean’s accountant/lawyer, he’d be content to just leave Benedict to his own devices. “Tell them I respectfully decline to their terms, please. I would, however be willing to discuss trade with them if they show flexibility.”

“I will send your regards. A member of the Jagerbar council has just launched a formal complaint against Mr. Thorne’s firm. Apparently one of the junior partners attacked him and left him incapacitated.”

“Let me guess. Miss Devreaux?”

“Yes.”

“That’s an internal issue. Thorne will deal with it. Where is this lunch?”

^*^*^**^^**^^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
He’s sidling somewhere between uncomfortable and scared beyond belief. He’d handling it remarkably well. But he really wants his phone back. Preferably without the hole in it.

The trailer is small, and cluttered with weapons and odd bottles and ingredients. He’s keeping his hands to himself and not touching anything. This is the type of situation his grandmother believed he would get tetanus from.

“You can sit down.” Burkhardt said, gesturing to a surface not currently covered with books or blutbad. 

He stared at the dirty chair with distrust but sat down anyway. It gave distressingly under his weight and he began to consider taxi fare back to his home. 

Gods, he wanted his phone back.

“Hey, look at this!” The Blutbad said excitedly.” There’s an entry here about a snake wesen that freezes people with hypnosis. It’s a …oooohh, a Basilisk! I didn’t know those were real.” The man seemed far too excited for his comfort.

Burkhardt was looking over the wesen’s shoulder. “Not much on the page. Does it say anything about walking through walls?”

“Nope. Does say that the eyes glow. And that the one was from Libya, how your ancestor knew that I don’t know.”

“That it?”

He watches silently as the two men stay bent over the tome, not willing to bother them. It’s striking to see the Grimm at work. It’s interesting to know that one of the most feared men on this side of the continent is so decidedly…low-tech. If he had a system more like Renard’s, he would be a severe threat. 

Something to mention to Nico. Or not, the damn wolf did confiscate his phone, useless as it was.

He glanced up and noticed that Detective Burkhardt was staring at him.

“Yes?””

“Any reason you would have a snake trying to kill you? Anything you haven’t told me that would be especially pertinent?”

“I have a lot on my plate. And I work for a man that isn’t particularly well-liked by any number of royal houses across the world. If you are asking me if there’s anything else that I’ve done to attract this kind of unwanted attention, I couldn’t say.”

“So we’d be better off trying to stop the assassin then trying to find out why he’s here. Fantastic.” Burkhardt shook his head. “Are you sure you don’t have an idea? Something you did in the last couple of months that set somebody off?”

“Well, there was this thing with a royal that wandered into the city, but surely it couldn’t be that.” He bit out sarcastically.

Burkhardt got a strange look on his face, as if he were remembering something secret, but it was gone just as quickly. Thorne filed it away as something to puzzle over.

“Any reason why it couldn’t?” The Grimm asked. Thorne considered telling him that it was likely that Siegfried thought he was dead, and possibly sleeping with the fishes (he never did get the whole story on what Benny had told the man) but that was a conversation he didn’t want to have. And it was too likely that Renard would get wind of it, and while Thorne didn’t have an issue with what he had done to protect Portland, Renard might.

“It’s very unlikely. He never saw me as a threat.” Possibly true. He wasn’t entirely certain, nor did he care. “He would be much more interested in Renard. Or you.”

“I still think that this has something to do with someone you personally have run across. Something about this is personal. I feel it. I want to know about everyone you’ve talked to over the last couple of months.”

“No.”

Excuse me?”

“I can no more tell you about the goings on of my private business than you can of your current investigations. There are things I do which you have no business or need, to know about. If I had a problem with anyone, Nico would have heard about it.”

“Really.” Burkhardt stared at him hard, his statement not a real question. He was able to hold the look for a few moments.

“Really….alright, I don’t tell Nico everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you, either.” He crossed his arms, careful not to lean too far on the damaged chair. 

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to trust me enough to let me help.”


	5. Dinner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hullo everyone!
> 
> I do apologize for the lull. Between me getting really settled and the holidays, I haven't been keeping up. I am so sorry! But I will try (!) to update about once a month.
> 
> I hope you all have a merry holiday and a happy new year! Cheers!
> 
> \--Splotchy

*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^

Augustus Trigoli is a pleasant enough individual. He is very well-spoken, intelligent, and polite. He is an older man, sharp eyed and bald, with a disarming smile. He is well-versed in the in both finances and trade, and has quite a few ideas about how to monopolize on any number of opportunities, eyes gleaming.

He is also disturbingly handsy.

He seems to find excuses to touch Renard’s wrists, a light touch to the shoulder, insinuating himself closer as if they are sharing some secret instead of the incredibly boring inner workings of Trigoli’s projects. 

Renard shrugs them off subtly, trying to keep in mind that gluhenvolk, like many reptilian wesen, are attracted to sources of heat. This may just be an undisciplined behavior but he sincerely doubts it. 

There is something about Trigoli that puts him slightly on edge, makes it impossible for him to write him off as an overzealous businessman. He almost wants to pretend he’s flattered by the attention if only to leave the wesen with a false sense of opportunity (because sometimes hope is all you need to get the job done) but he’s much better at vague promises of fortune and prestige than what he believes Trigoli might be after. If he’s honest with himself, the very idea of putting himself out there as an ‘opportunity’ makes his stomach turn, and he’s been wanting to leave since the first half hour of the meeting. But alienating his guest isn’t the way to do this.

They talk more about projects, while he mentally ticks off each minute, telling himself over and over not to leave, not to alienate. He knows the Gluhenvolk might be of use. The man is too smart and well-informed for Renard to cut him out because he feels slightly uncomfortable. He was the ruler here, and he knew that meant dealing with people he’d rather not to keep his home and people safe.

They finish their meal with Renard having barely touched his food. He claims interest in the situation when the wesen voices concern. 

“Your Higness, when may I expect an answer back from you upon these contracts? Time is of the essence, after all…”

“Mr. Trigoli,-“

“Augustus, _please_.”

“Augustus.” Renard forces a genuine smile. “Your projects are indeed lucrative. And I can see how they will affect my canton, but as you know, it doesn’t do very well to rush into these things. Let me speak with my advisors, and I will get back to you very soon. I’m sure they will be just as interested to hear what you have to say.”

“But of course…but surely, you do not allow your advisors to make your decisions? I was unaware that this … _canton_ was a diplomacy.” Trigoli’s eyes gleamed again, and Renard felt his hackles rise in response. 

How dare he insinuate he was not in control here! He was the royal!

Just as that thought flew through his mind he clamped down on it with an iron fist. Nothing showed across his face as he smiled again. “Of course not. But a wise man does not ignore good counsel. Thank you for your time, Mr. Trigoli.”

“As you wish. Until next time.” 

As Renard walks away he can swear the last part is giggled, but he doesn’t look, focused on getting away before his temper frays.

Angelica meets him at the car, arms conspicuously absent of folders. He holds the door for her, manners so deeply ingrained that he’d be doing it for women until he was old and decrepit. He slides in beside her and frowns, replaying the meeting in his head. 

Agelica is saying something, the car is moving, and for all he knows she’s got an epiphany on how to end World Hunger and Wesen-Human hostilities, but he can’t hear anything over the battle to get that seething thread of rage under control.

He dissects the rage at its source. Is he not in control? Was it…was it still the spell?

No, no it couldn’t be. The marred flesh where the seal used to be can attest to that. And while people may find out what he had to do to remove the seal, that knowledge wouldn’t come cheap, and certainly wasn’t subtle enough to come through a medium such as Trigoli.

Right?

No…no, that volley would have been too subtle. If this was about the curse, it would have been aimed differently. A few switched words or a gentle nuance would have caused far more damage. 

Take the situation without the curse. It became a businessman goading him to take a step without thinking it through. Simple enough to deal with. Nothing to get angry about.

_And yet he had._

For a moment, he was blindingly so. And only part of it was aimed at Trigoli, the rest of it at this nebulous pretend offense that he can’t even name.

A hand touches his shoulder and he is startled from his thoughts as Angelica looks at him steadily. He starts to apologize, then stops.

“You said Nico passed Trigoli, correct?”

“Yes. He checked out as being Gluhenvolk and his history as well.”

“I want him to do it again. Dig deeper.” He settles again into deep thought.

“What should I say he’s looking for?” She asks.

He rouses long enough to answer. “I don’t know. But it’s there.”

 

^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^**^*^*

When Nico shows up outside the trailer with two very tough looking wesen in tow, Nick is in the middle of writing down plausible threats to Thorne’s livelihood. It’s something to tell his grandkids-the moment when he realized that writing down the entire Russian royal family as possible attempted assassins of an accountant was no longer strange. He had just written that down when he glanced out the window and nearly had a heart attack.

“Does he ever just call?” He grouses at Throne. Thorne just looks irritated. Monroe looks spooked.

The polite rapping at the trailer door was answered by Nick yanking it open and glaring at Nico. “No, just come right up to the trailer that I bet you know houses an angry Grimm that someone tried to kill today. A call would have been nice. How did you know we were here?”

“I know everything that happens in this territory.”

Nick distinctly hears Throne mutter ‘bullshit’ softly in the background. If the twitch in Nico’s lips is anything to go by, he has heard as well.

“Great. What’s with your buddies?”

“Protective Detail. This is Clara and you’ve already met Zero. We’re here to collect Thorne and get him somewhere safe. That way you can get back to what you were doing.’

“…Yeah, he and I are talking. I need him for a little bit. He’s safe where he is.” Nick was not feeling particularly amenable.

“Obviously not. Someone almost managed to kill him again. You were supposed to stay at your home.”

Nick fixed the luison a look, trying to mentally project how idiotic that thought was. “You dropped a fuchsbau on my doorstep, said someone was going to kill him, and left. What part of that seems like I’d let it go at that?”

“I didn’t think you would. But I also didn’t think you’d put him in a position for a second attempt in as many days.” The wolf sniped back.

“I’m in the middle of trying to figure out who the assassin is working for. You can’t take him until I’m finished.”

“You two do realize I’m not a pet…right? I am fully capable of disappearing on my own.” The fox huffed exasperatedly behind Nick. “Detective Burkhardt, you aren’t winning this argument. Nico, just let me finish talking to the Grimm, and then I’ll go to whatever safe house you have in mind. Then you two can compare notes while I look for a new place to live.”


End file.
